


Severus Snape, Vicar and Lovesick Fool

by PinkCripps



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, One Shot, POV Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29934171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkCripps/pseuds/PinkCripps
Summary: Severus Snape, Vicar of the church, waits anxiously for the arrival of his pupil Miss Granger. He has something to confess. (Inspired by Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre etc.)
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	Severus Snape, Vicar and Lovesick Fool

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse any inaccuracies please. I’m not expert on the roles of vicars and priests and whatnot.
> 
> Inspired by a slew of stories I’ve consumed, including Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Hights, and Jane Eyre. 10/10 would recommend. Enjoy.

Hands clasped behind his back, Severus Snape stared through the stained-glass windows that lined the church.

He was standing in between rows of familiar pews, a little away and to the side of the entrance. Far enough to not be an obstruction, but close enough that _the girl_ would not miss spotting him when she entered.

Dust agitated around him, catching in the midday light. Severus sniffed and willed himself to calm.

Emotions were, indeed, what had launched him into this predicament.

His mind wandered to the beginning, a humiliating and pitiful scene that had also been his salvation.

_Severus, recently deflected and weeping, knelt in front of a skeptical Father Dumbledore._

_“I was a fool, sir—an orphan!” Severus wailed. “I had been deceived by their lies, taken in by their manipulation.”_

_“And found your only friend dead by their hands as a consequence.”_

_Severus flinched. “Yes, sir.”_

_“Peace, my boy. It was simply a statement of truth. I wanted to see if you understood it to be truth as well.” Dumbledore’s eyes softened. “And it seems you do. Perhaps there is hope for you yet...”_

_Outside, a rooster crowed, signaling the start of something new._

Severus closes his eyes in burning recollection. An obsessive study of the afterlife fueled by despair was what filled The Early Days. _Lily..._

But he understands he will meet Lily again in heaven.

For now, Severus is a man of God. A Vicar. Saved.

Severus opens his eyes. He owes entirely too much this place. His life. The very state of his soul.

He is not given long to ruminate on his debt, for at that moment, Miss Granger comes bounding into the church.

Her clothing is unrefined, hair messy and unmanaged. It is only to be expected for a girl without parents.

Miss Granger notices him standing there and turns toward him. The light catches in her hair, and it floats like a halo of light around her head.

Severus forces such foolish thoughts out of his mind and reminds himself to continue to breathe. The girl was approaching him.

“Good day, Mr. Snape,” she greeted. She curtsied, giving him a dulcet smile.

Her parents had been murdered not more than two years ago by the same followers of the cult Severus used to associate with.

They were very people Severus had lost Lily to. It was only natural that when Miss Granger had found herself alone and family-less, Severus had felt compelled to help take of the girl.

Of course, everyone took turns taking care of Miss Granger, as she was a ward of the church. She roomed with Mrs. McGonagoll, spent afternoons cooking with Mrs. Sprout, and spent time in discussion with the other staff.

“Miss Granger.” He returned her greeting.

None so much time as with he, however.

“Our study of James has been delightful thus far, sir,” she nattered, a vibrant light filling her eyes. “I have a few—“

“Miss Granger,” Severus repeated. He attempted to gain his bearings. “Miss Granger, the nature of this meeting will be slightly altered.”

She snapped her mouth shut and looked up at him with wide eyes. Briefly, Severus forgot what he had planned to say. His nerves overtook him like a wave, obscuring thought. The strange moment stayed suspended between them until Severus took a deep breath. It sounded suspiciously like a gasp.

He waited for her to manifest a slew of questions, but the girl was being unusually reticent. Severus took this as a sign to proceed.

“It is my duty to notify you,” he looked at her askance, checking her countenance, “that I will be soon transferring to another church.”

Her eyes creased, all reticence fled from her face. “Transfer!”

Severus clenched his hands behind his back. “Yes, transfer, Miss Granger. I will not see you for quite some time after I do. Possibly never.” Hopefully never. He wouldn’t know how’d he fair doing his twice.

For now that the words had released into open air he had to resist the urge to claw them back into his throat. His fingernails began to create impressions in his palms from the effort.

“Sir, why must you transfer! Will you not miss our discussions?”

 _Entirely too much._ He had not realized at first, and when he did, he naively thought it was of no consequence. That he could _control_ it.

There was a reason why the Apostle Paul had said to flee from temptation.

“Will I be able to visit you?” she asked.

“No. The opportunity is in Scotland.”

“Scotland—that’s a far way off...”

 _Pre-cis-ely!_ He soliloquized.

There was a period of silence, and Severus made to dismiss Miss Granger before he said something that did irreparable damage to his reputation. Yet he paused at motion from the girl.

“Well then, sir,” she smoothed down her skirts, “I shall arrange to come with you.”

He stared at her incredulously, having not anticipated the suggestion.

“Miss Granger, surely even you realize how improper that is.”

“Times are changing, Vicar,” she appealed. “It is not so improper for men and women to travel together. We meet alone, do we not?”

“ _In a church_ ,” he emphasized. And under the express permission of Father Dumbledore. Severus couldn’t imagine Dumbledore giving approval to this. Severus began to run his hands though his hair, then abruptly forced them down. “You cannot simply follow me from town to town, girl.”

“Why ever not?” she replied a bit mulishly.

“So you would be entirely complacent to leave behind your Mrs. McGonagoll?” he said snidely.

She looked left. “She and I have had our differences of late.”

“You could not truly be so willing to abandon,” he scoffed. “And over some petty argument?”

“It is _not_ petty.”

Severus cringed. In moments like this, her youth shone. A bout of irrational anger coursed through him. It was clear Miss Granger would not make this easy.

“I shall have to be indelicate about it, then.” He leaned down, forcing the full impact of his vicious words. “I want to be rid of your company.”

“What?” she said, a waver in her voice.

“You tire me. I took pity on you because of your recent orphanhood and poor state. It’s what any good Christian would do. But now that I’ll be leaving I have full right to express my true opinion. I daresay I deserve a break from your incessant questions and grating demeanor.”

“That cannot be true. It cannot. If—if you hated me, you would have never put up with my presence at all,” she stated triumphantly. “I know your personality, Mr. Snape. You do not suffer fools gladly.”

He ground his teeth, caught in his deception. Christianity had not aided his ability to lie. He opened his mouth to issue an objection, but Miss Granger continued, carried by the excitement of her conclusions.

“Rather, I believe you hold some affection for me.” Severus stopped breathing. “In truth...I return it.”

Severus remained stony faced.

Miss Granger started to look uncertain.

He began to circle her.

“What is your age, Miss Granger?”

A bewildered look briefly appeared on her face before she replied, “That does not have an effect on our conversation.”

“What is your age?” he repeated.

And when she discerned he would not continue without an answer, she stiffly answered, “not yet one-and-twenty.”

“Not yet twenty either. You are nineteen.”

She flinched, but remained silent.

“And what is my age?” He stared at her from behind, daring her to admit her ignorance. When she said nothing, he continued, “I am nearly forty.”

“And what is your point?” She snapped as she whipped her head to the side.

“My point,” he said with increased aggravation, “is that no proper man would marry a woman with such an age discrepancy.”

She swirled on her feet to face him, face lit with incredulous fury. “And that is the extent of your concerns for the appearance of propriety? Of everything else about our situation, that is what you choose to have scruples with? The age difference is of no matter!”

“You do not understand,” he growled. “My mother was more than twenty years my father’s junior.”

“Your mother—“

“My father killed my mother, then killed himself. I was eleven.”

Miss Granger paled. “Mr. Snape...”

“But had broken her long before then. Like I will break you. I am not a kind man, Hermione.”

And hidden behind the anger in his eyes was anxiety. Dread of becoming his father. Insecurity of his morality. Distrust of himself.

He knew he had not hidden these feelings well enough when her vexation fled from her face as quickly as Elijah ran from the storm. Carefully, she took his hands in hers. “No, you are an upright man, which is infinitely more important.”

His hands tightened in hers. He looked away from her, yet allowed her touch to continue. “Have I not said it plainly enough?” he whispered. “I will break your spirit, and you will grow to despise me.”

“I have a strong character. Do you believe I would be cowered by your personality, when I have not shown the slightest proclivity towards that in the time I have spent with you?”

He suddenly looked back towards her with pained eyes. “Do not allow me to hope, Miss Granger. I have been tortured enough these past months.”

She gave a sharp, little inhale. “Then you do want me,” she concluded. “Yet you attempt to separate us. I do not understand. Why?”

He was completely still. “Because the depth of my love for you prevents me from acting on my desire.” Severus finally pulled away from her. “I cannot, will not, inflict myself upon you.”

There was silence.

“Oh Mr. Snape...” Hermione murmured with sad eyes. “Does that not say much about your character? That you would protect me from everything, even from yourself?”

“It would be a scandal if we were to become involved. You know it is frowned upon for vicars to marry.”

“I love you.”

“Pardon?” She‘d said it so quickly and so suddenly, Severus was sure wishful thinking had caused him to hallucinate the phrase.

A becoming flush suddenly graced Miss Granger’s features. “I, ah, I mean,” she flustered. “Forgive—forgive my brashness. I—oh foolish, foolish!” The later part was muttered sharply, seemingly to herself. Her eyes threatened to tear up at any moment.

Severus looks on ruthlessly, feet planted firmly apart. He stands back as the girl raises her arms above her head, attempting to stave away tears. He rubs his fingernails back and forth on the pad of his thumb.

He knows he should let the girl go. To allow her to turn away from him and cry her heartbreak. This was exactly what he had intended to happen.

But the girl’s sudden confession had rattled him. And now faced with the prospect of Hermione’s actual departure, he found it leaving him hollow and panicked.

He forced himself to examine his motives. Why was he being so forceful in his rejection of a relationship between them? Was it really just for her? Or was it to protect himself?

“Mr. Snape, I have no dignity left with regards to you. So I implore you to no longer deny this thing between us.” Hermione looked up at him with pleading, brown eyes.“Please, sir.”

And then he recognized what the terrible, chest-binding thing that had been controlling his actions was: fear.

The thought of allowing himself to love again—it terrified him.

But why did it frighten him so? Distantly, insecurities and pain about Lily registered in his mind. But gazing into Hermione’s lovely, innocent face, the thoughts turned into but shadows of shadows.

...did he not already love her?

His fingers stopped moving, and he straightened his hand.

“Miss Granger, you are enough to lead a man to sin.” Hermione’s eyes widened at his callous language, a remnant of his younger days. “I find I have neither the will nor want to resist you.”

Severus would have said he needed to pray, but he had prayed. He had prayed about his conflict long and hard and for many hours.

Now, he sent up a simple, short prayer. A plea.

And outside, a rooster crowed.

Severus was filled with the most certain feeling of rightness, and it only increased as he dropped to one knee.

“Miss Granger, you have bewitched me, body and soul.” His eyes blazed with intensity. “Will you take my hand in marriage?”

Severus could hear Hermione’s increased breathing. And although she had expressed her sentiments not more a few moments past, he still trembled with fear, now of her rejection.

Her voice broke the silence, steady even as her eyes filled with tears. “Nothing,” she whispered, “would delight me more.”

 _Nothing would delight her more_...Severus quickly rose to stand in front of Hermione. The sudden difference in hight was dizzying, but never once had he taken his gaze off the woman he loved.

She looked so beautiful, staring up at him. His heart beat with the knowledge of her acceptance. Of her returned affection. Of the future possibilities of their lives.

His hand floated up between them and he lightly brushed his fingertips along her cheek.

“Miss Granger...”

* * *

“...Miss Granger,” Severus inhaled as he caught sight of his bride walking down the aisle 

She was radiant in beauty, so distracting that McGonagoll’s stiff stance and the whispers in the crowd took no more of his notice.

His full attention was devoted to the way her eyes gleamed coyly at him through her veil. The urge to protect, cherish, give, _love_ seized him so.

Unable to control himself, the left side of his mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile.

Miss Granger—soon to be Mrs. Snape—finally stood in front of him, and Father Dumbledore began the vows.

The words seemed to echo his sentiments. It was no problem thinking of giving his entire life to this ephemeral creature. Boggling was the idea of her giving her life to him, yet he knew Hermione only did what she wanted.

As Severus lifted her veil, the full impact hit him once more. _She wanted him_. He leaned down slowly, prolonging the moment.

His lips brushed his wife’s...and a rooster crowed outside.

Severus grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for “you have bewitched me body and soul” goes to the movie Pride and Prejudice.
> 
> Aaa it feels so good to finally get this out! It’s been sitting in my notes for like a year now bruh. I couldn’t let it go because Regency Snape just gets the heart beating ya know?  
> Kudos, comments, criticism greatly appreciated <3


End file.
